


This is not a dream

by neilskey (spellitwithyourpeas)



Category: All For the Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: M/M, One Shot Collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2017-03-29
Packaged: 2018-08-18 19:05:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8172592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spellitwithyourpeas/pseuds/neilskey
Summary: "There were moments when his body remembered before his mind did. The tension from spending years contemplating fight or flight. Too often it was both.But that was over now. Andrew leaned into him and Neil exhaled.Sometimes a storm was simply a storm. It didn’t have to be a trigger for memories he was willing to let fade."





	1. Enough

He’d been sitting on the roof since before the sun set. The warm September breeze grew chilly with the fading light, but he stayed seated-one leg dangling over the edge, letting the cold seep in.

The cigarette was practically a stub,  
but he was determined to hold fast till the last possible moment.

When Andrew found him, he plucked it from his fingers and ground it into the cement. Neil glanced up and watched as Andrew took in the sight of the campus bathed in street lamps as he simultaneously dug through the pocket of his jacket pulling out a new box.

He took one out, trapping it between two fingers before tucking the box away again. He lit it and stared out, ignoring Neil.

It didn’t bother him. It was quiet- Neil could handle quiet. There were no hints of anger in Andrew’s steady gaze, no glint of dark humor either.  
His eyes were clear, but focused- just not on him.

Neil held out a hand and Andrew wordlessly passed him the cigarette, exhaling the smoke up to the nights sky.

Some days there wasn’t much to say. Only fingers laced into the sleeves of sweaters, the heavy hand cradling the back of his neck. The rush as he was pushed against concrete-pressure, a new desperation in his bones. A fever flooding his system.

Neil shivered and inhaled before passing the glowing cigarette back.  
The heat spread through him, but it was fleeting.

It was unconscious, but he brushed his arms stirring warmth back into his limbs.

He heard the barest hitch of a sigh before he heard the rustle of fabric as Andrew took off his jacket and handed it to him.

Neil glanced up, questioningly, “Won’t you be cold?”

Andrew rolled his eyes, “Don’t ask stupid questions. Take the fucking jacket, Josten.”

Neil took the it. His mouth twitched up with a small smile as he slipped it on.

A few minutes later Andrew sat down next to him and waited. When Neil stood to leave, Andrew’s stillness broke as he followed him back inside.

When they reached the room, Nicky smiled as they entered, prying his attention from the movie playing. His eyes were bright with suspicion.

The two ignored him and sat in the bean bags as they watched the rest of the movie in silence. They were close-their legs were just touching.

Neil smiled, because it was enough.


	2. Off Limits

He expected his relationship with Andrew to become a topic of conversation on the court-fuel for biting words hissed through gritted teeth, racquets locked against each other.

Neil wasn’t surprised. His reaction though?

That was unplanned.

It was a week ago when news broke of the two. Neil took over, steering the conversation in the direction he wanted. Territory paved with one word answers. Bare of any details. They didn’t owe them anything.

The unhurried kisses, the stories exchanged on the roof, the shared cigarette? Theirs’s alone. Sometimes he woke, his breath ragged as his mind reeled from the nightmares or memories-often he couldn’t tell the difference between the two. He finally felt grounded when Andrew’s hand pressed against his neck.

The command to breathe floating in the space between them.

Growing up, he hadn’t learned to share. Things were taken and stolen away. It’s how he survived. He was learning now-a sweatshirt, a drink, a set of keys. Given and returned.

But not this. This wasn’t meant to be shared. It was a formality that had to be addressed and then set aside.

Or so he had hoped.

But here he was, biting his lip hard as he pushed against his opponent who had hurtled into him and taunted, “He as shitty in bed as he is on the court?”

That was his first attempt. It was weak and easy to ignore.

His fourth, however, struck a nerve and Neil didn’t hesitate to slam him against the plexiglass wall. It rippled under the strike. And the fight went on from there. Neil grimaced when his fist made contact with a jaw-he ignored the sharp pain radiating through his hand.

A whistle was blown and a flag thrown.

Neil flexed his fingers. It stung.

Worth it.

Kevin was the first to pull him away, muttering reprimands and threats in his ear, but when Neil glanced up on the walk off the court, his eyes roamed across to the goal and he sobered up at Andrew’s hard gaze. Neil saw the question in his tense form.

Neil gave the slightest shake of his head.

He tasted blood.

Wymack raised an eyebrow when he stepped off the court, “Really Neil?”

“Sorry coach.”

He rolled his eyes, “No you’re not.” Wymack gestured over to Dan and jerked a thumb to the court. She was already moving, pausing to give Neil’s shoulder a squeeze on her way out.

Neil let Abby remove his gloves and quietly assess his red knuckles. The words still echoed in his mind. The tone- harsh and mocking.

The rage lingered through the rest of the first half. Only when he walked into the locker room did it settle as he wiped the blood off his cheek. He’d slipped into the bathroom ahead of the team.

When Andrew came in behind him, Neil didn’t look away from the scarred face in the mirror.

He strode over to him and a hand caressed his neck as the other ghosted over his split lip.

Neil felt the pressure of Andrew’s thumb as his blood raced.

“I’m fine.”

Andrew’s voice was cold. “Did I ask?”

“You didn’t have to.”

Neil shrugged out of his grip and took a washcloth to his knuckles, wiping away the dried blood on his hands.

Andrew stilled and Neil turned back to face him. “It was worth it alright. He had it coming.”

Andrew took the washcloth from his hands and took over cleaning away the red, revealing the broken skin underneath. “Why?”

This time there was no malice in his tone. It was quiet and calm. Only a question.

Neil sighed and released the tension in his muscles before glancing down at Andrew’s hands. “I don’t give a fuck what anyone says about me all right? That doesn’t matter.” Neil’s gaze was fierce as he met Andrew’s eyes. His mouth twitched at the low tone in Neil’s voice and his stare was challenging, understanding the implication of unspoken words.

“I don’t need you to defend my honor, Josten.  Won’t be the last time they talk shit about us.” A shiver ran through Neil at the two lettered word

“Yeah, maybe. But it was the first time. And this?” Neil gestured between them. “This is off limits.”

Andrew nodded and then shrugged, “Nothing’s off limits on the court. All’s fair in war.”

Neil cocked his head, “It’s ‘All’s fair in love and war.”

“Whatever. Just keep your shit together. Let’s go.” Andrew tossed the washcloth to the floor and turned to walk away.

Neil smiled and followed him back out to the rest of the team.


	3. Follow

Neil woke quietly as the thunder rumbled and rain pelted the dorm window. He sighed and closed his eyes in hopes sleep would take him back. It had only been three hours since they’d come back from the court, just missing the torrential downpour.

Andrew slept next to him. Neil watched his chest rise, slow and easy movements and matched him breath for breath.

He didn’t count the minutes, but when it started to feel like hours, he finally accepted the reality that three hours was all he was going to get. He sat up painfully slow, glancing at Andrew. When he shifted one leg over the bed, foot touching the floor, he felt him stir.

A finger brushed his wrist.

Neil turned and met Andrew’s eyes-awake and questioning.

“Just restless. Go back to sleep.”

Andrew nodded, but kept his eyes open, watching Neil throw on a long sleeved shirt before walking out of the room. He heard the whir of the coffee maker and rolled his eyes before joining him in the kitchen. Neil was sitting on the edge of the countertop, mid sip when Andrew padded out of the room and reached around Neil for a mug and filled it up.

The kitchen lit up in a flash as lightning struck. The silence between them was never uncomfortable. It wasn’t the first time Andrew joined him when he woke up in the middle of the night. Sometimes he would take Neil’s suggestion and fall back asleep. Sometimes he waited for Neil’s panicked breathing to slow before closing his eyes. Sometimes he asked and waited for the quiet “yes” before rolling over to hover over Neil. It never took him long to reach up and snag his bottom lip between his teeth. It always made Andrew shiver. Sometimes the bed was empty when he woke- a pair of running shoes missing from the closet.

Tonight he followed.

(He would always follow.)

Even if it was to just be present at his side.

“I like storms.” It was a mumble that was almost missed.

Neil glanced up at him, the quiet admission startling him. “Can’t say I’m surprised.”

Andrew stared at him, unimpressed.

With his second cup, Neil walked over to the window and watched as the wind tore through the trees below. He felt Andrew behind him and leaned back gently. Andrew relaxed into him.

He never cared for storms. Sleeping in soaked clothes was never any fun, though it was easy to lose a tail in poor weather. Neil sighed and set his mug down on the ledge. There were moments when his body remembered before his mind did. The tension from spending years contemplating fight or flight. Too often it was both.

But that was over now.

Andrew leaned into him and Neil exhaled.

Sometimes a storm was simply a storm. It didn’t have to be a trigger for memories he was willing to let fade.

He turned to face Andrew, “Yes or no?”

Andrew studied Neil, accepting whatever he saw, “Yes.”

Neil laced his fingers in Andrew’s hair and kissed him softly. Andrew broke first and Neil rested his forehead against his. A breathless, “I think I’m ready to go back to bed”, whispered before Andrew hooked a finger in the sleeve of his shirt and tugged him gently back to the room.

Neil followed.

(He would always follow.)


	4. Study Break

 Renee found him in his room, hunched over his desk staring intently at his stats textbook, cheek resting against his hand. In the other hand he held a pencil between two fingers, tapping a ferocious beat.

She cleared her throat, “Neil?” He looked up and his tense expression softened and he settled, pushing the textbook aside. “Hi Renee.”

Renee took the invitation and stepped into his room. Her arm was in a sling courtesy of the brutal game yesterday. Her eyes were worried when Abby slipped it on, but she relaxed at the warm smile and when Abby met her gaze with a kind smile, “You’ll be ready for the next game.” And that settled it.

“Neil, can I ask you a favor?”

His brow furrowed. “Of course.” It wasn’t a question.

Renee grinned, “It’s nothing really, it’s just the girls are out and I wanted to paint my nails but,” She shrugged and the brace crinkled. “You seem like you’d have steady hands.” She paused, “Better than mine at the moment.”

Neil nodded with a small smile. “One sec.”

He got up and left the room, returning with another chair and set it next to his desk. Renee sat and tugged the strap of her purse over her shoulder and unzipped it, pulling out a small bottle of robin’s egg blue nail polish before handing it over to Neil.

He took it, admiring the colors. “Not orange?” He asked, a light teasing tone.

Renee’s laugh was musical. “Not today. Next week for the game.” Neil nodded.

She laid her hands down flat on his desk and relaxed as he opened the bottle. He hunched over and began to paint a light coat. His gaze was intense once again.

“I have to admit I’ve never done this before.”

Renee hummed, “You’re doing fine.”

They settled into a silence, resonating and calm. Renee studied him out of the corner of her eye as she glanced around his room. No posters, no bursts of color. Pretty stark for a college dorm room.

His textbooks lined the back of his desk, backpack leaning against the wall. She didn’t see his duffle bag, but she knew it was there.

But amidst the bare walls and clean floors, there were signs. Signs of a home being made. There was a book set on his bedside table, one that Kevin had loaned him.

_He had shoved a book into his chest, “You should read more Neil._

_Neil took the book before it slid down to the floor as Kevin walked away “….Ok.”_

There were Matt’s extra gloves on the shelf in his closet. Strewn across the bed was one of Andrew’s black shirts. And there, how could she have missed it? Push pinned into the corkboard of his desk was a photo of the team, grinning (minus Andrew, but even he wore an expression that if you knew him, you’d call pleasant), arms slung over each other.

The sight filled her with a warmth akin to happiness and a deep fondness for the friend painting her nails so carefully.

“Are you happy Neil?” She asked softly.

The break in the silence startled him, and he frowned when he’d realized he’d hit the tip of her finger with the small brush. He brushed the paint away with his pinky leaving a splotchy streak of blue, before looking up at her.

“Yeah, yeah I am.”

Renee nodded firmly. “Good.”

She let him finish the task uninterrupted. When he was done, he leaned back and shrugged, assessing his work.

Renee glanced down and smiled, “Flawless.”

Neil returned the smile, “You should probably stay until they dry.”

“Ok.”

They talked quietly. About classes and Exy. Neil asked about Jean and she replied with good news that he was settling in with Jeremy and the team well enough. They spoke about her plans after college.

Midway through the conversation Andrew walked in.

“Hi Andrew.”

“Renee.”

Andrew took in the sight and glanced at small bottle of nail polish before sprawling out on Neil’s bed. He grunted and pulled his own shirt out from under him. Balling it up, he threw it at Neil who caught it, “Stop stealing my shit, Josten.”

“Stop letting me.”

Andrew pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes, “Neil, how come you never paint my nails?”

Neil looked over his shoulder lazily, “You never asked.”

“I’m asking.”

Renee blew on her nails, “Do you like robin’s egg blue, Andrew?”

He shrugged, “It’ll do.”

Satisfied, Renee stood up and gestured to Andrew. “Take my seat. Thanks Neil!” She waved on her way out. Andrew watched her walk out, before making his way over to the chair.

Neil was already unscrewing the cap of the bottle Renee left.

“Renee interrupt your studying?” Andrew asked as Neil began to paint.

“Yeah, but I needed the break.” Neil’s mouth twitched in a small smile as he remembered her words.

“What?” grumbled Andrew.

Neil glanced up at his boyfriend with a smirk, “She said thought I had steady hands.”

Andrew snorted, “Lucky me.”

Neil’s eyes were bright when he met Andrew’s who stared back, “Neil.”

“Yes or No.” He didn’t mean it to sound like a challenge.

“Yes.”

Later, the team met for dinner in the cafeteria. When Andrew placed his tray down next to Neil, across from Nicky, Nicky glanced up from his burger, he didn’t seem surprised to see Andrew’s nails painted, but he took in the sight, confused.

“Hey Andrew. Why do you only have one hand painted?”

Andrew’s response was bored, “Mind your own business.”

Nicky shrugged and Renee smiled.

“Renee, why are you smiling?” Allison asked, eyeing her suspiciously while twirling a forkful of spaghetti.

“No reason.” Renee smiled.


	5. A Moment Like This

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty necessary to listen to The Driver by Bastille :) sets the vibes

It was still dark when Andrew slipped out of the dorm.

He had woken up suddenly, his eyes wild, panicked and limbs thrashing. And even though his heart raced, time slowed enough for him to realize that he was alone.

The only weight crushing him was that nightmare that was his own memory. He kicked the already strewn sheets aside and sat up from his pillow, damp with sweat.

It took a minute longer for him to loosen his grip on the knife he’d grabbed on instinct.

It took him two minutes before he slid it back into place. He listened to the sound of Neil’s own uneasy sleep in the bunk below and when it was quiet, Andrew swallowed the last of his fear and climbed down from his bunk.

He spared a glance in Neil’s direction before snagging the striker’s sweatshirt from the crack between the mattress and bed frame. Andrew grabbed his shoes and the pack of cigarettes from his dresser and left the room.

Seven minutes later he was outside, parked on the top of a bench grounding himself in the sickly-sweet smell of the smoke he inhaled.

The grotesquely orange sweatshirt didn’t do much to stop the bite of the morning chill.

He didn’t care.

Mist gathered along the ground and it was quiet except for the hum of crickets. Andrew stared ahead.

Neil found him fifteen minutes later.

Predictable and reliable.

That was something new. A red flag thrown.

Andrew took another slow drag and watched Neil’s sleepy approach with minimal interest. His gaze only lingered when he noticed the black sweatshirt he was wearing, pulling it tight against his lean frame.

Neil took a step up onto the bench seat and sat down next to Andrew. Blearily, he looked around the table and spotted the box of cigarettes. He drew one out and the lighter contained inside. He relaxed when he released a smoke-filled breath.

Andrew waited for him to speak. To babble on in a blissful, one sided conversation about everything and nothing. He waited, ready to hang onto every word.

Neil sat silently at his side and watched the sunrise as he finished his cigarette.

Not so predictable after all.

Andrew ground the butt of his own cigarette into the table and started when Neil broke his silence.

“Orange looks good on you.”

It was quiet and only slightly mocking.

“Neil.”

Neil’s eyes found his. And for a moment, they were full of expectations that Andrew didn’t want to think about meeting.

“Fuck you.”

And its Neil’s dry laugh that made Andrew want to lean in to that feeling he’d resisted for so long. The one that demanded transparency and trust.

It was a constant game of tug and war: Resist or surrender? Fight or flight? A little pain or nothing at all?

It wasn’t as much of a question as it was a state of being.  

“Neil?” Andrew said again, tapping a gentle tempo against the other man’s wrist.

“Yes.” He answered firmly.

And before Andrew curled a hand into the black sweatshirt, his black sweatshirt, he studied the look of want in Neil’s gaze and in his parted lips.

He nodded, if only to himself, to confirm Neil’s answer and twisted his hands in Neil’s collar to tug him closer, kissing him slowly.

And when Neil broke away to trail his lips down along Andrew’s neck, Andrew sighed and uncurled his clenched fingers to drag them through Neil’s hair instead.

As the mist faded and the day grew warm, Andrew wearily noted the feeling settling in his bones. Not the mania of a high he wouldn’t get back. Not the deepest of lows. No this was something far and few.

Not joy, never joy, but not unhappiness. Maybe it was a moment of peace. A time in between the choice to fight or run.

It was a new feeling and it didn’t come without its own unease.

But it where Neil went, so did it.

He thought he might as well try and get used to it.


	6. Anchor

His body was a patchwork of scars-a canvas of raised lines and white, taut skin. Andrew's black bands helped, but nothing stopped the wide-eyed looks to the remnants of his cheek and the scars on his hands. He didn’t blame the onlookers, it was only natural to stare. You pay attention to the differences. Hell, it’s how he'd survived this long, so he could at least understand that. But in a heartbeat, what started out as a glance morphed into morbid curiosity and that made Neil's throat clench tight.

It shouldn't have bothered him and when he finally took a deep breath and slowed his racing thoughts, he realized it really didn’t. But in that instant, there was a slow, stretch of panic that turned his stomach upside down. It was the sharp inhale of surprise, the quiver of a hand, or the ever-apparent grimace on the stranger’s face that set his nerves aflame.

And in that moment Neil wanted to run. To avoid eye contact, turn on his heel and walk the other way, away from their curiosity and their roving eyes. Such things were threats, or had been at least, to his very existence. 

And now he was living in a world where he had invited such speculation in.

Neil blew out a breath and walked out of the classroom after the professor dismissed them. A new year. New classes, new people who no doubt knew his name, but they'd only ever be strangers to him. His thoughts had wandered to the upcoming afternoon practice and had strayed far from P-values and Z charts. When he had first walked in to the small lecture hall, conversation fell to a hush as his fellow students took in the sight of him. Kevin's announcement had taken away some of the heat and the summer break helped, but still. Neil wasn't sure he'd ever be able to blend in quite the same way ever again.

Not now.

Anonymity wasn't a trait he could boast any longer. He had given that up the day he signed with the Foxes. It was slowly peeled out of his tight grip the further he dug his heels in to unite the team. He had ignored the stares and took a seat and normal conversation resumed.

Point was, he was still adjusting and that fact was a thorn in Neil's side. He bit his lip and shouldered his backpack as he made his way back to the dorm. Practice started in two hours and usually he would head straight to the stadium to prepare. Being vice-captain hadn't changed much, but it served as an added weight to his shoulders. Any concern for his future and any debts he owed were put on the back burner as he struggled to lead the team. It was balance, juggling the old with the new. He loved every second of it, but it was exhausting and he didn't know how Dan did it.

Nonetheless, today he needed a breather and goddamn it, he was taking one.

His feet carried him to one of the few places that felt like home, only because of who he hoped to find waiting for him.

The door to the rooftop screeched open and clanged shut behind him, but the blond, with his back to Neil, didn't flinch at the sound. He flicked the butt of his cigarette and watched it sail into the breeze down to the sidewalks below.

Neil breathed and settled as he walked and took a seat at Andrew's side. He nudged him gently on the shoulder, a silent hello, and Andrew offered him the box, lighter crammed amongst the cigarettes, without sparing a glance his way. Neil shook his head and silently refused Andrew’s offering.

Instead, he stared ahead at the sprawling campus and sighed.

At that, Andrew glanced up. His gaze was aloof, but his mouth set in a firm line as he took in Neil's tense form.

Andrew took the box back and shoved it in his pocket.

Flames and smoke, burning flesh and singed memories, it was a pattern in his life that Neil hoped had been laid to rest for good when he felt his own skin burn hot. Even now, the echo of his pleading screams looped in his mind and he shivered.

A hand brushed his and Neil's attention fell to the blond at his side.

"You're usually not this quiet"

Neil's shrugged and flashed a wry smile.

To anyone else, Andrew's words would sound like a quiet observation. Nothing more, nothing less

To Neil, it was an invitation that he could accept or dismiss.

Neil turned his palm upward and slipped his fingers through Andrew's.

He smiled and looked up, "It's nothing serious."

"Liar."

Neil laughed, "Nothing but my own pride and vanity."

Andrew scoffed, "When have you ever been vain?", and his lips turned up in a mocking smile, "I've seen your wardrobe."

"You've taken over my wardrobe."

"You're welcome."

Neil's laugh was soft, quiet and Andrew leaned in ever so slightly at the sound. Silence followed and Neil felt whatever tension had been rising, break.

"Do my scars bother you?"

Andrew went still and arched a brow in Neil's direction. His tone left little room for argument.

"I thought we’d already established that they don't"

Neil nodded. Each memory of Andrew's hands on him, each moment eased the bad memories that lingered on the edge of his thoughts. He swallowed and inspected their laced fingers.

"Sometimes they bother me."

"That's your problem."

Andrew’s words were harsh and cold, but the warmth from Andrew's body as he leaned in was anything but.

"It's just...people stare."

Andrew rolled his eyes, "Maybe it's not the scars. Maybe it's that damn mouth of yours." Neil laughed softly and shook his head, “You like it.”

Andrew responded with a low grunt of acknowledgement.

"So people stare. What's it matter?"

Andrew released Neil's hand to dig into his pockets for another cigarette as he waited for Neil’s answer. He cupped the cigarette and the click as the lighter ignited filled the quiet.  Andrew took a drag and stared at Neil.

The redhead fidgeted before he glanced up, his eyes wide and sheepish.

"It makes me want to run."

Andrew's movements stilled and he glared at Neil.

“I thought I told you to leave Nathaniel behind.”

 Neil's palm dug into the lip of the concrete edge. It was a bite that scratched the surface of his skin as much as the name felt like the slice of a butcher knife.

Neil swallowed and tugged at a stray thread on his jeans, “You did. And I did. It’s not like before, but…” He shook his head as he stumbled over his words. He glanced at Andrew’s unwavering gaze and reached over and plucked the cigarette from Andrew's mouth and inhaled slowly, loving and hating the heat.

 The smell and taste did nothing to calm his nerves today. It was a trigger he was coming dangerously close to pulling. He exhaled and watched the smoke fade.

"What I mean is, I'm still learning ... to not fall back into old habits. Old instincts."

He took another testing inhale before he passed it back to Andrew who held the cigarette between his fingers as he waited.

"I don't know. Just an off day I guess. It's nothing."

"It's not nothing."

The look Andrew passed him was surprisingly patient and Neil couldn’t help but stare as he nodded, remembering his promise. He was done running. He knew that with every beat of his heart, but knowing it and believing it was going to take time, no matter how much he loved his team or the man at his side.

Luckily for him he had bartered himself a new life. Bled for it and now he had all the time in the world.

“Don’t be an idiot.”

Neil startled and narrowed his eyes at Andrew, “About what?”

The look Andrew passed him was almost one of a challenge. _About everything._

“Scars or not, people are going to be staring at you the rest of your life. Deal with it.”

“Asshole.” There was no force behind Neil’s words and Andrew smirked.

“Drama Queen.”

The breeze picked up and swept through Neil’s hair and he felt calm as he watched the bustling campus below him. He felt grounded. The only revelation being a renewed thankfulness for Neil Josten’s continued existence

Eventually practice beckoned and Andrew pushed the cigarette into the concrete, leaving a small, sooty stain behind.

Practice left Neil exhausted, mentally and physically- but later that night, when Andrew reached for him and presented the question Neil lived to answer, he found he still had some strength left.

Andrew took his time and left Neil writhing and begging for release. Neil felt nails press into his scarred flesh and he sighed.

When their breathing had slowed, Andrew leaned over Neil and pressed his lips to his scarred cheek. Neil closed his eyes at the feather light touch and smiled, running a hand through Andrew's blond hair as the other man continued to trace over the rest of Neil's scars.

He met Neil's gaze and the look in his eyes left Neil feeling whole. Andrew's touch, the only sacred thing in his life, anchored him. Neil drifted in and out of sleep slowly, knowing it only took Andrew longer. Hours later he woke to Andrew’s touch, fingers digging unkindly into him as he clutched at Neil, the imperfections the only thing keeping his mind in tune with the present moment.

“It’s just me. You’re safe.”

“ _Shut up.”_

He heard Andrew’s breathing slow. As the seconds passed by, he slowly released his death grip on Neil and relaxed back onto the mattress. Andrew swallowed and his words were a low rasp.

“That’s why it’s not nothing.”

The blond released a breath and Neil nodded, not knowing if Andrew saw the movement in the dark. Neil turned his head and watched Andrew drift back to sleep with one of his fingers still curved around Neil’s wrist, just barely in contact with one of the small circular scars. And in that moment, his scars didn’t bother him, not even in the slightest. They were a small price to pay to have Andrew at his side like this.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Find me on [tumblr](http://neilskey.tumblr.com/)


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